THE MODERN SPECTATOR No. XXVII

1813-06 :Pages 331-336

So numerous are my correspondents, that if I had not determined to take them according to the date of their arrival, I should be in a state of continual perplexity. Nay, as it is, if Mr. Ackermann was to publish his admirable miscellany every week, instead of every month, it would be regularly supplied with such productions as mine.

As a man of humanity, and impressed with the love of my fellow-creatures, which I profess myself to be, I cannot but feel a very sensible mortification, that so many persons address thenselves [sic] to me in the language of complaint, and, as far as I can judge, without any just cause of lamentation: I mean, as rational, reflecting, consistent beings, who must know that life is a chequered state; that trouble is a part of our allotment; that the day of our existence is shaded with clouds as it is brightened with sunshine, and that to bear with fortitude and resignation the pains and sorrows to which we are subject, is a duty that religion enjoins, and which the just Being who, for wise purposes, inflicted them upon us, will finally reward. But the complaints which reach me, are many of them so trivial, that they rather dispose me to laughter than commiseration

A gentleman writes me word, that he has a very susceptible heart; that he is continually under the influence of the tender passion, and wishes, above all things, to unite himself in the hymeneal bonds with some lady whose charms, accomplishments, and disposition, may combine to render his life happy. He knows, according to his own account, several charming young women who answer this description, and who would probably yield to his solicitations, if he had it in his power clearly to express them; but, from some bad habit contracted when a child, or perhaps an original defect in the organs of speech, he cannot tell a lady that he loves her, or that she is lovely. In short, he cannot, without extreme difficulty, agitation, and grimace, pronounce any word that begins with, or comprehends the letter L. Thus, he is so long in saying to any attractive fair on, I l-o-o-o-o-o-ve you, and accompanies the declaration with such sputtering and distortion of features, that the lady is ready to die with confusion or with laughter, before he has concluded his declaration: nay, sometimes he has himself been so overcome, as not, after all, to give the word utterance, without a sudden projecting motion of the head at the close, that threatens violence to the person he addresses, and which actually did, on one occasion, produce a bloody nose in a very pretty face, the owner of which has ever since denominated him, Raw Head and Bloody Bones.

It is certainly a most unfortunate defect in a man who is always in love, not to be able to pronounce the name of the passion which seems to be the main-spring of his actions, and on the gratification of which his happiness depends. There appear to be only two ways left for him, by which he can proceed: the one, by writing; and the other, by dumb show or pantomime; and it appears that he has tried them both without success. The first letter he wrote on this important subject, was worked up in all the strength of expression which the violence of his passion might urge him to employ. But the lady refused to listen to a declaration of love, which the gentleman who made it could not utter. She also added, that, with his infirmity, the lady who married him would be under the painful necessity of having all the talk to herself; a circumstance which the whole sex are known to abominate. His next trial was in verse; and he flattered himself, that poetry might be more favourable to him than prose. But here again he was unfortunate; for the fair one to whom he addressed himself, insisted upon it, that neither the Muses nor Cupid could consider him as their votary, or they would have contrived to untie his tongue for him. As for his dumb show, he is still more unsuccessful in that than in his attempts which have been just described. He had taken lessons, it seems, of some actor of consideration, who had taught him to employ every look and posture declaratory of the tender passion. He had been taught to sigh, to put on the mist piteous looks, to place his hands on his bosom, to kneel, and display and very posture of entreaty. But the first time he put this design in execution, the lady thought he had suddenly lost his senses, and expressed her alarms by such screams and shrieks, as called the whole family to her assistance. What is to be done for this poor gentleman, I am really at a loss to conceive. He has but a choice of evils; and nothing is left for him, but to find out some pleasing, agreeable woman, who is as deaf as a post; or an interesting young person, who has the same impediment as himself. In the former case, he may convey his ideas with his fingers, which will not stammer; and, in the latter, the happy couple will at least have a mutual sympathy; and if they cannot amuse each other by their conversation, they will be sure to be infinitely entertaining to every company which they may frequent.

I am sorry to find, that I have at least a score of complaints from wives, of their husbands; and but one solitary declaration of discontent of a husband, respecting the conduct of his wife. One lady is extremely angry with her hymeneal companion, as she calls him, for being always from home, and leaving her to the dullness of her own melancholy society. While another is equally dissatisfied, that the master of her house, as she chuses to express herself, is never out of it, but in attendance upon her. She thought the other day, that she had contrived an agreeable absence, by a visit, for a short time, in an aguish situation in the country, where she was certain, as he is very careful of his health, that he would not accompany her. But he took a post-chaise secretly, and went another way, in order to afford her an agreeable surprise; so that, when she arrived at her journey’s end, she found, pour comble de bonheur, son cher mari ready to receive her. She positively declares, that, if he continues to worry her in this manner she will do something or other to procure a divorce, and get rid of him for ever.

There is no end to the accounts I have of domestic discontents, from the grandfather to the hundredth cousin; and in many of them there may be some cause of complaint. I only wish that I could discern, here and there, some well regulated mode of conduct and management, under these inconveniences, from which our condition is inseparable. But it really moves me from all moderation of temper, when I receive lamentations that could only be justified by the most aggravated calamities, on subjects not only trivial and ridiculous, but absolutely disgraceful.

Miss Flirtilla Simper complains of the cruelty of her mamma, for ordering her new dress to be jonquil and lilac, when she knew that her heart was set upon maiden’s blush.

A lady, who has lately lost the best husband that ever woman possessed, and who, since his death, has never been able to get a moment’s sleep for thinking on him, till three or four o’clock in the morning, complains, in the bitterest terms, of a devilishblackbird, belonging to some one in the neighbourhood, which about that hour begins his infernal schritching, to the destruction of the only insensibility in which she can lose her griefs. Another complains of her being the peculiar object of ill-fortune. It seems, she says, as if every barbed arrow in the quiver of fate were to be discharged at her. She had lost three children and their fond father in the course of seven years. Scarce had she dried up her tears for the death of one, than they were called to flow another; and now, when her spirit had been brought into a placid state resignation, a new wound had been suddenly opened by the death of her two little darling parroquets, who died in the course of one night, and have left her perfectly disconsolate. There is a florist too, who complains, that, during the last two seasons, the weather has been altogether unfavourable to his shew of carnations, and that the sun, which shines upon all, exercises a malignant influence upon him.

I shall conclude my catalogue of complainers with the enraged disappointments of a virtuoso, who, by accidentally slipping on a piece of orange-peel in the street, fell into the kennel; and, in consequence of being obliged to go into a coffee-house, to get himself cleaned and rubbed down, he came too late to a sale, and lost the purchase of a shell, which he had been hunting after for several years.

It would be endless to enumerate the many fantastical afflictions that disturb mankind; but as a misery is not to be measured from the nature of the evil, but from the temper of the sufferer, I shall present my readers, who are unhappy in imagination, with the following allegory, for their instruction and amusement.

When Jupiter took into his hands the government of the world, the several parts of nature, with the presiding deities, did homage to him. One presented him with a mountain of winds, another with a magazine of hail, and a third with a pile of thunderbolts. The stars offered up their influences, the ocean gave in his trident, the earth her fruits, and the sun his seasons. Among the several deities who came to make their court on the occasion, the Destinies advanced, with two great tuns carried before them, one of which they placed on the right hand of Jove’s throne, and the other on its left. The first was filled with all the blessings, the other with all the calamities of human life. Jupiter in the beginning of his reign, finding the world much more innocent than it is in this iron age, poured very plentifully out of the tun on his right hand; but as mankind degenerated, and became unworthy of his blessings, he set abroach the other vessel, that filled them with pain and poverty, battles and distempers, jealousy and false hood, intoxicating pleasures and untimely deaths.

He was, at length, so greatly incensed at the increasing depravations of human nature, and the repeated provocations he received from all parts of the earth, that he commanded the Destinies to gather up the blessings which he had thrown away upon mankind, and lay them up until the world should be inhabited by a more virtuous and deserving race of mortals. The three sisters immediately repaired to the earth, in search of the several blessings that have been scattered on it; but found the task enjoined on them much more difficult than they had imagined. The first places to which they resorted, were, cities, palaces, and courts; but instead of meeting what they looked for here, they found nothing but envy, repining, uneasiness, and the bitter ingredients of the vessel on the left hand; while they found the substantial blessings of life in situations of tranquility and retirement. They observed, also, that several blessings had degenerated into calamities; and various calamities had improved into blessings, according as they fell into the possession of wise or foolish men. They often found power with so much insolence and impatience cleaving to it, that it became a misfortune to the person on whom it was conferred. Youth had often distempers growing about it, worse than the infirmities of old age; wealth was often united to such a sordid avarice, as made it the most uncomfortable and painful kind of poverty; and industry itself, by directing its efforts in wrong channels, had no better gains than those of idleness. On the contrary, they often found pain made glorious by fortitude, poverty lost in content, and deformity beautified with virtue. In short, the blessings were often, like good fruits, planted in a bad soil, that, by degrees, fall off from their natural flavor into tastes altogether insipid; and the calamities, like harsh fruits cultivated in a good soil, until they acquire delicious juices.

There was still a third circumstance, that occasioned as great a surprise to the three sisters, as either of the foregoing; when they discovered several blessings and calamities which had never been in either of the tuns that stood by the side of Jupiter; and were, nevertheless, as great occasions of happiness or misery as any there. These were, that spurious crop of blessings and calamities which were never sown by the hand of the deity, but grow of themselves, out of the fancies and dispositions of human creatures: such are, dress, titles, place. Equipage, groundless fear, and all the vain imaginations that shoot up in trifling, weak, and irresolute minds.

At length, the Destinies, finding themselves in so perplexed a state, concluded, that it would be impossible for them to execute the commands which had been given them, according to their first intention; for which reason, they agreed to throw all the blessings and calamities together into one large vessel, and in that manner offer them up at the feet of Jupiter. This was performed accordingly; when the elder of the sisters addressed the deity in the following manner:

”O Jupiter, we have gathered together all the good and evil, the comforts and distresses of human life; which we thus present before thee, in one promiscuous heap. We beseech thee, that thou thyself will sort them out for the future, as in thy wisdom thou shalt think fit; for we acknowledge, that there is no power besides thine, that can judge what will occasion grief or joy in the heart of a human creature, and what will prove a blessing or a calamity to the person on whom it is bestowed.”

A stanza from Spenser, shall conclude my subject:

In vaine, thou, said old Melibee, doe men

The heavens of their fortune’s fault accuse;

Sith they know best, what is the best for them

For, they to each such fortune doe diffuse,

As they do knowe each can most aptly use.

For, not that, which men covet most, is best

Nor that thing worst, which men doe most refuse;

But fittest is, that all contented rest

With what they hold – each has his fortune in his breast.